


Things That Go Bump In The Night

by shadowsamurai



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humour, Subtext
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-18
Updated: 2012-06-18
Packaged: 2017-11-08 01:28:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/437625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsamurai/pseuds/shadowsamurai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's house is awash with strange and unusual noises - whatever can it mean? A story not to be taken seriously. ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things That Go Bump In The Night

**Author's Note:**

> Set towards the end of S4, but nothing specific.
> 
> This was inspired by a restless night's sleep, when I kept thinking 'I don't remember hearing the house make that noise before' and 'what the hell in my room makes that noise?' and I live here all the time! So I wondered what it would be like for the SG team, who are hardly ever at home.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I'm just borrowing things for a while and I promise I'll put everything back exactly how I found it when I've finished. Well, almost exactly how I found it. ;)

SG1-SG1-SG1-SG1-SG1-SG1

Major Sam Carter put the key into the lock of her front door, turned it, and pushed, wincing at the sound of shifting paper on the floor. Without looking down, she strode into the hall, wading through the mountain of mail that had accumulated since she was last in the house.

Sam dropped her bag on the floor, kicked the envelopes and junk mail to one side, and closed the front door again, resting her forehead briefly against it as she sighed. Life was always busy in the SGC but the past few weeks seemed to have been particularly manic, especially as Sam had found herself injured on one of the last missions and confined to base while Jack, Teal'c and Daniel went off exploring two more worlds. Not that she was jealous, of course. Heaven forbid such a thought.

Luckily her arm hadn't been broken from the fall she sustained off world, but Dr Fraiser had ordered Sam to stay on-base, something the Major had objected strenuously to. Janet put up with her protests for so long before pulling the dirty ace card; she'd go straight to General Hammond. To Sam, that was a below-the-belt blow and she now wasn't talking to the Doctor, not that Janet was bothered. She knew it wouldn't last.

Surprisingly, the rest of SG1 had been quite considerate when they returned from their missions. There had been no gentle jibes, no witty banter; if Sam didn't know better, she would say that they missed her company and while that didn't make up for her not being out there with them, it did make her feel a little better.

Bending, Sam collected all the mail and took it into the kitchen, kicking her shoes off and flicking lights on as she went. Bills went onto one pile on the counter, junk went on the floor; if there'd been any personal letters, they would have gone onto another pile, but Sam wasn't that lucky.

She looked around her kitchen and sighed. There were times when she was glad to get off base, to get back to her house and have her own space, but there were others time when the base felt more like home and the house simply felt like that; a house.

Sam found a CD to put on, then grabbed her bag and tramped upstairs. They only had the weekend off base, but already it seemed like three days too long; Sam was already planning what she could do when she go back to work.

Normally a tidy person, Sam just dumped her dirty laundry in a pile on the bedroom floor and threw everything else wherever she found space. As she headed to the bathroom, a small smile crossed her face; she wondered if Jack was the same when he got home from the base. Somehow she imagined he would be.

About the only thing Sam did enjoy was a bath. It wasn't only a fantastic way to relax, but it helped to clear the ingrained dirt from the job and to ease her aching muscles. Sinking into the tub, Sam sighed in contentment and leant her head back. Downstairs the CD was still playing to itself, but she didn't mind. It helped to mask the other sounds the house was making, sounds she wasn't familiar with any more.

By the time Sam settled down for bed that evening, after fixing some of dinner of which she only ate half, and spending a couple of hours picking holes in a sci-fi TV series, she realised the one thing she missed the most was company. Even if she was working alone in her lab, there were always people walking past or dropping in, even if it was just to give her a report of some sort. Sam missed the constant hum of activity in the mountain, like a giant beehive, and she sighed into the darkness, realising she was well and truly married to her work.

Downstairs she heard a humming noise and she sat up a little in bed, wondering what it was. Then she realised it was the freezer, complaining at being empty, and Sam settled back down again.

The next thing to startle her was a loud screech outside from an owl. Sam laughed quietly to herself, glad no one else could see her. Battle-hardened Major Carter, who had no trouble sleeping on an alien planet, was jumping at every little sound her own house made.

A bang from downstairs, however, did make Sam sit up and reach for the light switch. But after a few minutes, she heard nothing else, so the light went out and she lay back down. She tried to identify what she could hear; a dripping tap, a clock ticking, machinery humming, something creaking.

Suddenly there was a loud crashing noise as someone fell into Sam's room, swearing violently. With her heart hammering loudly in her chest, Sam flicked the light switch and reached instinctively for the gun or the zat she didn't have. Without looking at the intruder, she rolled out of the other side of her bed and started searching for some kind of weapon. An old baseball bat lay under the bed, and deciding that was perfect, Sam grabbed it and advanced on the prowler.

As she swung at the body on the floor - it seemed the intruder was swearing because he had fallen over the pile of laundry Sam had carelessly left there - she saw one chocolate coloured eye widen and then a familiar voice emitted from the mountain of clothes.

"No, Carter, wait!"

Sam stared in disbelief. "*Colonel?*" she exclaimed. "What the hell are you doing in my bedroom? Sir?"

"First things first, Carter, will you put that down?" Jack pointed to the bat, his expression, or at least the part of his face Sam could see, was wary.

"Oh, right." Sam tried not to laugh as she rolled the bat back under the bed.

"Great. Now can you get me out from under…here?" Jack trailed off as he realised what he had landed on.

Sam didn't know whether to laugh hysterically or die or embarrassment at the sight of Colonel O'Neill wearing her bra on his head, the rest of her laundry covering him like a blanket. She wasn't quite sure how he had managed to get into that state, and she wasn't going to ask. Actually, she wished she had a camera handy, not that it would make a great blackmail photo really. People would just want to know what he was doing in her bedroom in the first place.

Sam crossed the room, bent a little and extended her hand. "Of course, sir. Sorry, sir."

"Don't give me that, Carter," Jack grumbled as he got to his feet, the clothes falling away easily. "You're lovin' every minute of this."

"Not exactly, sir," Sam replied, her tone cool despite her amusement. She was, after all, only clad in her pyjamas and while Jack had seen her in almost every state of dress and undress while they were out on a mission, this was different. This time, they were in her house and there was no one else around. After the recent revelations, the tension and awkwardness, things had finally settled back down to some sort of normality for Sam and Jack. She didn't want to upset the delicate balance they'd achieved.

Of course, Jack actually being there in her bedroom had already done that, but Sam was trying desperately to hold onto some shred of normality.

"What are you doing here, sir?" Sam asked eventually. She sounded weary, and she hoped Jack didn't think it was because of him, although knowing Jack, he probably hadn't noticed.

Unfortunately, he had. He suddenly looked uncomfortable. "I don't know. Bad idea. Sorry, Carter. Night."

"I don't think so. Sir." It was belated but Sam didn't care. "You broke into my house in the middle of the night for a reason. I think I deserve to know what it is."

"I didn't break in, Carter," Jack protested. "You gave me a key, remember?" He held a key up just to prove his point.

Sam looked unimpressed. "That was for emergencies, sir."

"Waddja think this is?" he retorted.

"Why? What's happened?" Sam asked, suddenly worried.

"Ah, nothing. I…ah, crap."

Sam sighed. "Alright, first, shoes and coat off, sir. You can put them back on when you explain what the hell's going on. Second, I need my robe."

"You could just back to bed," Jack suggested, then he grimaced. "Ah, I didn't mean…I just…if it's easier…."

Sam smiled at him. "It's alright, sir, I understand," she replied as she climbed back under the covers.

"Glad someone does, Carter," Jack replied, taking his shoes off and shrugging out of his coat. "Glad someone does."

After a few minutes, Sam spoke up. "So?"

"So." Jack avoided her gaze. "You remember what we talked about in that room, Carter? What we had to admit? And we agreed to leave it in that room."

Sam swallowed dryly, her stomach churning at the prospect of what was going to happen or be said next. "Yes, sir."

"Can we have this the same as that?" he asked. "Right now, can we just…pretend we're not who we really are?"

"Make believe, Colonel?" Sam replied, a smile tugging at her lips. "Aren't we a little old for…?" She blushed suddenly, realising how her words could be construed. "Ah, never mind, sir."

"Role-playing, Carter?" Jack supplied for her, finally looking at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Sir," she said threateningly.

"Right. Reason I'm here." He took a deep breath. "I couldn't sleep."

But instead of laughing, Sam smiled again and nodded. "I understand. House doesn't feel quite right sometimes, does it?"

"Sounds like I'm living with a poltergeist," Jack admitted. "I kept gettin' up just to find out what was making the noise."

"I'm the same. It's times like this I miss the noise of the base, sir," Sam said quietly.

Jack just nodded, and they sat for a while in silence. "I should probably go, Carter," he murmured. "I shouldn't have come anyway, wasn't right of me."

"Why *did* you come here? Sir?"

"Can we forget the 'sirs' for now…Sam?" Jack asked.

She smiled. "Alright."

"I came 'cause…I didn't wanna be alone," Jack replied quietly. "Sounds weak, I know, but…."

"Why does it sound weak? Everyone needs someone sometime," Sam told him firmly. "I'll bet there are some days when General Hammond goes home and wants nothing more than his wife's company. That doesn't make him weak; makes him human. Just like you."

Jack couldn't think of much to say, so he just replied, "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Sam took a deep breath, knowing she was about to take a huge risk, one that could easily backfire on her. "Look, you're here now, so you might as well stay. It won't take five minutes to make the bed in the spare room, or there's the couch if you really want to."

"Thanks," Jack said, forcing a smile. He was right, it had been stupid to just turn up in the middle of the night. He hadn't known what he was expecting, but…he had been expecting something.

"Or…." Sam stopped, unwilling to go further. "Look, I'm about to break every rule in the book, so I need to know…."

"Go on," Jack encouraged her, wanting to hear what she had to say knowing full well the damage it could do.

"Or you could stay right here," Sam finished quietly. "Bed's big enough. I'm pretty sure I could find you something to sleep in. And the sheets are too big for the bed, so we won't be fighting for covers." She smiled to try and take some of the tension out of the situation.

Jack pretended to think about it, even though his mind had been made up as soon as she mentioned the third option. Finally he looked at Sam, his eyes burning. "What have you got I can sleep in? And if it's pink, forget it," he said, grinning.

Sam's face fell. "That's the only colour of T-shirt I've got. Clean, anyway." She shrugged. "Guess you'll have to sleep shirtless."

Jack cleared his throat, trying not to blush at her suggestion. Somehow she always managed to get one up on him. "So, Carter, sleeping clothes."

"Yes, sir," Sam replied. She climbed out of bed and padded over to some drawers, pulling out a large black T-shirt. "Will this do?"

Jack nodded. "I don't need anything else. I can sleep in my shorts."

Sam simply nodded back. "Bathroom's down the hall. Only thing I don't have is a spare toothbrush."

"Don't worry, did them before I came out," Jack called back.

Sam stared out of the room for a moment before she started laughing. "Of all the conversations and situations to have…."

Jack reappeared grinning lopsidedly. "Tell me about it."

Sam tried not to stare; after all, he'd extended her the same courtesy and it only seemed fair to do the same. "So, that's your side," she said, nodding firmly. "And this is mine. And…good night, sir."

Jack climbed under the covers and spent a few minutes getting himself comfortable. "Night, Carter."

Sam turned the light out and tried not to instinctively roll over into Jack's side. She could hear his breathing, another sound that would take a while to get used to, especially as it was only going to be for one night. Or at least that's what she expected; she didn't want to expect anything else. She knew it would only lead to disappointment.

"What was that?" Jack asked after a while.

"Freezer, sir," Sam replied.

"That?"

"Clock."

"And that?"

"Erm…that's a good question, sir."

"Honestly, Carter, your house makes more noises than mine."

"So maybe we should go sleep there," Sam replied flippantly. There was silence for a while after that.

"Sam?"

"Yes, Jack?"

"Can you come sleep over here?"

"Where?"

"Right next to me."

"Why?"

"I'm afraid of the dark," Jack said in his best little boy voice.

Sam laughed, longer and harder than she had for a while. Suddenly a weekend away from the base didn't seem like such a bad idea. Wordlessly, she rolled over and found Jack's arms waiting for her.

"Is that better, sir?"

"Carter," Jack growled warningly.

Sam smiled as she snuggled into his side. "Is that better, Jack?"

"Much better, Sam."

Suddenly she sighed. "Now what?"

Jack kissed the top of her head. "We sleep," he replied eventually, in a quiet voice.

"And after that?"

"Let's take this one day at a time, Sam. Whatever happens, we'll work it out. Okay?"

"Okay." She turned a little and spread her hand on his chest, over his heart, as though she could keep hold of him that way. "Good night, Jack."

"Night, Sam."

The only sounds that filled the bedroom then were ones of gentle breathing, of quiet contentment. At least until….

"What was that?"

FIN


End file.
